


Repulsion

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Series: On a Hiding to Nothing Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coercion, Demon Dean Winchester, F/M, Incest, Manipulation, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Twincest, Wincest - Freeform, twin sister au, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 16:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18055721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Y/n and Dean Winchester were inseparable when they were young. Dean’s always wondered why his twin went cold, but it’s not until he’s a demon that he forces the truth from her, about a drunken night he doesn’t remember that she wishes she could forget.  THIS IS A DARK FIC!~~~~~~~~~~“Leave me alone, y/n. Just walk away.”“Unfortunately, you’ve shared a dangerously codependent relationship with Sam so he can’t just let you go. So I can’t walk away.”He turned to you fully, then, dropping his boots off of the crossbeam of the chair and standing. “You ever wonder why you an’ I don’t have a relationship like that? I mean, ain’t twins supposed to be creepy-close, makin’ up secret languages together and feelin’ each other’s pain?”You swallowed hard but stood your ground. “Look, I will be the Tomax to your Xamot and we can develop Winchester Latin if you just come home.”He wagged his finger at you. “Nah, see, I think there’s something there, y/n. ‘cause I remember we were close when we were young, taking care of Sammy, only havin’ each other to lean on, being Dad’s perfect little soldiers, but you pulled away. I think it was right about the time Sam ran off to Stanford, you went cold.”





	Repulsion

**Story Warnings** : angst, depression,  **18+ HERE BE SEX! DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!! NON-CON** , past non-con fingering, manipulation, unprotected sex, incest, sister wincest

* * *

You sighed, looking over the paper for the dozenth time.  **Sammy Let Me Go**  on a small piece of lined yellow paper. He hadn’t addressed it to you, just Sam. Dean knew Sam wouldn’t stop looking for him, but you… well, you were too tired to keep up the fight, had been for years.

You’d seen your twin brother die too many times. You’d seen your baby brother die too many times. You’d seen Castiel die and far too many other friends. You were tired and Dean knew that. So, he didn’t think you’d go looking for him, but you weren’t so gone that you’d let Sam go looking for him alone.

So you went. You went alone while Sam summoned demons to torture for information. You found him easily. Dean, as a demon, was interested only in enjoying himself. You found him at a strip club, tossing twenties at the Thursday afternoon dancers. He ignored you as you approached, eyes never leaving the mostly bare woman on the stage. “Dean.”

“Go. Away. Y/n/n.”

“Sorry, brother. It doesn’t work like that. Sam needs you home, so by extension,  _I_ need you home. Come on.”

“Sorry, sister. It doesn’t work like  _that_. I told Sam to let me go. Guess now I gotta tell you.” He turned his head just enough for his green eyes to catch your matching ones. “Leave me alone, y/n. Just walk away.”

“Yeah, unfortunately, you’ve shared a dangerously codependent relationship with Sam so he can’t just let you go. So  _I_  can’t walk away.”

He turned to you fully, then, dropping his boots off of the crossbeam of the chair and standing. “You ever wonder why you an’ I don’t have a relationship like that? I mean, ain’t twins supposed to be creepy-close, makin’ up secret languages together and feelin’ each other’s pain?”

You swallowed hard but stood your ground. “Look, D., I will be the Tomax to your Xamot and we can develop Winchester Latin together if you just come home.”

He wagged his finger at you. “Nah, see, I think there’s something there, y/n. ‘cause I remember we were close when we were young, taking care of Sammy, only havin’ each other to lean on, being Dad’s perfect little soldiers, but you pulled away. I think it was right about the time Sam ran off to Stanford, you went cold.”

You licked your lips and shook your head. “Dean…” You struggled with the words and you knew that meant he had won. The demon your twin became was going to latch onto this one thing, this one harsh memory, and pull it from you. “It’s not-”

The smirk that turned up the corner of his mouth made your stomach roil. “What’s not what?” He faked a sincere look, right down to the Winchester puppy dog eyes. “Come on, y/n. You know you can tell me anything.”

You took a step back, moving toward the fire exit. You’d call Sam and Cas for backup. You shouldn’t have approached him alone, anyway. “No, I can’t. Not this.”

Dean followed you into the dark hallway, either incensed by curiosity or the fact that you were planning to call in assistance. In a flash, your face was pressed into the sticky wall next to the men’s restroom, your arms twisted behind your back with Dean leaning over you. “Come on, y/n. It’s gotta be somethin’ big if you’re  _running_ from it. Tell me.”

“Dean, don’t.”

“Start talkin’, sister, or I’m gonna start breakin’ bones,” he whispered, getting a hold on your first finger on your right hand and twisting it to just before the breaking point.

“Ow, fuck! D. please.”

“I like the begging, but it’s not what I wanna hear right now. Story time, bitch. Go.”

You whimpered, unable to stop the audible evidence of your weakness from leaking out. “Fine! God, I’ll tell you! Fuck.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “The week after Sam left… you got drunk.”

“That’s not news. I spent the first two months he was gone in a bottle.”

“Yeah, well, this night didn’t end with you passed out in the back of Dad’s car or in some roadhouse chick’s bed, it ended with you crawling into mine,” you whispered. You could feel tears popping up along the lashes of your closed eyes. “Ended with your tongue in my mouth and your hand down my pants.”

There was a long moment of silence before he let go of your finger. “Really?” he drawled quietly.

“You-you didn’t remember it the next morning, so I just never said, but I had to distance. I couldn’t…”

He chuckled, darkly, and pressed himself closer to you. “You fuckin’ liked it, didn’t you?”

Your eyes snapped open. “That’s disgusting! No, I fucking didn’t.”

“Lie-ar,” he said in a singsong tone. “Even when I’m blackout drunk, I’m real good with my hands. You, at twenty-two, inexperienced, innocent little virgin? Bet you came, didn’t’cha?”

Your cheeks heated at his words, at the memory of Dean giving you your first orgasm with his long fingers buried in your virgin pussy. “That’s not- I didn’t-”

“Not your fault you were a virgin for so long, ya know? I spent more’n a decade chasin’ off any guy who might be interested. Starting with that quarterback douche in Fairfax that wanted to take you to the drive-in.”

“What?” You twisted to try to see him better. You’d always thought it was you scaring guys off, that the switchblade in your purse or the warrior mindset your father had impressed upon you from such an early age was just too much for most men. It never even occurred to you that you didn’t lose your virginity until Dean was in Hell. Bobby introduced you to a hunter friend to watch your back while Sam ran off to be with Ruby and he just happened to end up enamored with you. He didn’t stick around after Dean came back. He said he couldn’t handle the Winchester drama. That loss, it was the tipping point of your depression, the thing that made the pain your every day normal.

“Yeah. After I kicked Jesse to the curb, you seemed to finally get it, stopped trying.”

“What?” you repeated, tears popping up in your eyes again. “You made Jesse leave?”

Dean took a step back, allowing your arms to drop limply to your sides as you pulled away from the wall and turned around to look at him. There wasn’t a speck of guilt or shame on his face as he shrugged. “Wasn’t good enough for you. None of ‘em were.”

“Are you- I  _loved_ him! I gave up when he left. I-”

“He obviously didn’t love  _you_ if he left.” He shrugged again. “Didn’t try to fight for you, didn’t try to convince me he was worth a damn, just scurried off like the cockroach he was. Not worth your tears, y/n.”

“Why? Why would you  _do_ this?”

He pursed his lips, then scratched the side of his nose. “The old me, I’d say it was all to protect you. Save you from a bunch of guys who wanted to use you, but… eh, what’s the point of lying? If I couldn’t have you, no one could. And I really could  _not_ have you.”

“That’s  _sick_!”

“You know you were my first wet dream?” he continued, speaking nonchalantly, as he leaned against the opposite wall of the hallway with his arms crossed over his chest. “We were thirteen, you just started to get tits, practically overnight. You lifted your first bra from Sears, but you got the wrong size. Guess you were already a B cup by then and you got an A. Your tits were just spilling out of the thing and I had this dream, recurring one for about a year, of you getting so frustrated with the thing that you just whipped it off right in the middle of the motel room of the week… and then you’d let me play with ‘em, suck ‘em, bite ‘em.”

You shook your head and covered your chest with your arms, too, trying to occlude his view of your breasts and give yourself a hug. You had a growing feeling of disgust weighing your stomach down. “You can’t… I’m your  _twin sister_ , Dean.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why I shoved that shit down in the dark recesses of my soul. Put it away with the sadistic part of me… but, you know, I am really surprised that I only got shitfaced and forced myself on you once. And I’m kinda disappointed I didn’t dick ya.”

You gagged a bit at his words. You wanted to respond with something, but there was nothing but revulsion in your throat. You felt like you might throw up. He wanted you? This whole time, your whole  _lives_ practically?

He smirked and pushed off from the wall. “I guess it ain’t too late, though, is it?”

You shook your head, cringing away from him. “No.”

He chuckled and leaned in closer. “Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal, y/n. You’re gonna come with me. There’s really nothing you can do against that. I’ve always been stronger and faster than you and there’s no way you can win now. I’m  _gonna_ fuck you. If you don’t cum, I’ll go back to the bunker with you and let Sam do whatever he wants to ‘fix’ me.” He did air quotes around the word. “When you  _do_ cum, though, you’re gonna be stuck with me.”

“What does that even mean?” you whispered.

“Means you come with me, you never talk to Sam again, and we do whatever the fuck I want for the rest of your life.” You closed your eyes, swallowed, and tried to keep your lunch in your stomach as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to his side. “Come on. Let’s get outta here.”

You tried to resist as he pulled you out the side door and into the parking lot, but he was too strong. He shoved you into the passenger side of the Impala and walked around to the driver’s side. You looked around at the mess in the car. You hadn’t seen it this messy since before it came into your brother’s possession. “Where are you taking me?” you asked, quietly, as Baby roared to life.

“Motel. Where else?”

You sighed, bringing your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly. “Is-is there any way I can talk you out of this?”

He laughed, loud enough to ring in your ears. “Not a goddamn thing, y/n/n.” He looked over at you and licked his lips. “You gonna beg me to let you go?”

You shook your head. “I don’t beg for demons,” you whispered.

He hummed, his lips twisted into a smirk again. “You will. You’re gonna beg this demon.” He wrapped his hand around your wrist and tugged you out the driver’s door as soon as the car was in park. You weren’t sure he’d even taken the keys out of the ignition.

“Tell me ‘bout that night I got drunk. Wish I could remember it. Go on and jog my memory. Where were we? Were we on a hunt?” he asked as he kicked the motel door closed behind him. You started to shake as he stepped in front of you and started to unbutton your red and pink flannel. “I asked you a question, y/n.”

“You asked two, actually,” you argued, quietly. “We were… we were in Puyallup, Washington. That poltergeist. Dad went to question the former owners in Bend, Oregon. He wasn’t gonna be back ‘til the next day and he had the Impala. There wasn’t a bar within walking distance-”

Dean nodded in recognition as he pulled your shirt down your arms and dropped it to the floor. “But I had a package store in my duffel bag. Turned on  _Tombstone_ and started drinking.”

“Weren’t very far into it before you were trashed. You were slumped in your chair before ‘That’s Latin, dahlin’, but you kept drinking.” You closed your eyes as he pulled your black undershirt off over your head.

“Keep going.”

“You kept looking at me. I was just sitting there, just sitting on the bed, reading  _Dreamcatcher_ and you kept looking at me. Eventually…” You took a deep breath and tried to stop shaking. “You came to sit next to me. You took the book out of my hands, threw it on the other bed and you pulled me into a hug. I thought it was nice, it was okay, it was just you showing affection in that way you only do when your inhibitions are lowered. You… you told me that everything was gonna be okay, that we had each other. You said even if we didn’t have Sam, even if we didn’t always have Dad’s support, even if we didn’t have Mom, we-we had each other.”

Your throat clenched around the next sentence, maybe because your memories were raging in your head, but maybe because Dean’s fingertips were sliding across the swell of your left breast where your anti-possession tattoo sat. “Not gonna tell you again, sis,” Dean said, threateningly.

“We laid down together. I d-don’t really… we laid down, you were holding me. Your h-hand slipped under my shirt, but it was nice. It was… your skin warm on my back. I was falling asleep. I was so close, I didn’t realize until it was too late that you’d slipped your other hand into my pajamas. I tried to push you off of me when your hand went into m-my underwear, but-”

“Always been bigger and stronger. I start fingering you then?”

You stiffened as he reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. Your arms moved to cover your chest as he pulled the straps down. You could lie. Let the story end, don’t tell him more than necessary, but what if he really  _did_ remember? What if all this had been the demon messing with your head?

“Um, no. You just, sorta, kept your hand there for a while, waited for me to drop my guard a little, I guess. You kissed my neck, told me you were gonna take care of me, that you loved me, that everything was going to be okay. Then you started kissing me.”

“You let me.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. No, I just… didn’t fight you,” you admitted.

“You liked it, y/n/n,” he said in that ‘Do not lie to me’ tone. “Someone being there for you, for your pleasure. Never had that before me, I made sure of it. So, we kissed, ‘cause ya kissed back, didn’t ya? And  _then_ I started playing your pussy like a fine fuckin’ instrument, huh?”

You didn’t respond, but you didn’t have to. The shame on your face was more than enough answer. He nodded, moving around behind you and wrapping his arms loosely around you. If this weren’t a demonic version of you brother, if you weren’t bare-chested, it might have been a comforting hug, but instead it just made your body stiffen. “Don’t worry, y/n. I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Oh, god.” Bile rose up in your throat as he gently pushed you toward the bed. “I don’t wanna do this.”

“Shhh. Relax, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he whispered. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re lying,” you said as your knees touched the mattress.

“Not this time, I’m not. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m gonna make you feel amazing. When’s the last time you felt good, sis? When’s the last time you were happy?” He turned you and looked into your eyes, looking for all the world like the portrait of sincerity.

“Not since you were in Hell, before you scared off the love of my life.”

“Jesse wasn’t the love of your life. He didn’t love you how I did. He didn’t fight for you.  _I_  fought for you.”

“You’re not  _supposed_ to love me like that, Dean. It’s not right,” you whispered.

“So?” He sighed, softly, and moved his hand to caress your cheek. “Can’t change how I’ve always felt. You were all I had, for so long. The thing that held me together when I was holdin’ Sam up. I’ve always loved you more than I’ve ever loved any other woman.”

You scoffed, reminding yourself that this was just another layer of demon bullshit. “You’re a  _demon_. You’re not loving me, now.”

“I’m still  _me_ , y/n. I still know how to treat my other half.” ‘Other half’ reminded you of your childhood, of Dean introducing you as his other half instead of his twin. You shivered as he leaned down, pressing his full lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, sweet. If you closed your eyes, maybe it would have been nice. If it wasn’t Dean… Tears popped up in your eyes as he pulled away from the kiss. “I’m gonna make you feel good. Lie down,” he whispered, nodding toward the bed.

You wanted to deny him, to resist in some way, but you didn’t. You climbed onto the mattress and laid your head on the pillow. He climbed in beside you, snaking his right arm under your neck and letting his left hand settle over your belly button. He looked down at you with a gaze of absolute adoration. “It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay, y/n,” he whispered. “I’m here for you.”

As he skimmed his lips over your neck, your eyes fluttered closed and you realized that he was trying to recreate that night in Washington. You’d told him exactly how to get to you, exactly what he’d done to get you, the sober twin, to yield to his sick desires. That’s why he was being so soft. “Th-this… this isn’t-”

“Shhh. It’s okay. Gonna make everything better,” he promised, swiping his tongue up the column of your throat. He let his hand slide under your waistband and you stiffened, again. He pressed his lips to your jaw, sucking lightly. It was ridiculously pathetic how quickly his soft kisses and caresses had you melting. The six years of celibacy had your body aching to respond. When he felt you relax, he propped himself up on his right forearm and pressed his lips to yours again. He pushed his tongue against your lips and you opened them, allowing his tongue entrance.

As your tongues pressed against each other, his hand moved to cup your mound, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on where his hand was when you were so focused on his lips and tongue, on the fact that you were kissing back and how ashamed you were going to be in the morning. His middle finger pressed against your slit and you moaned into his mouth. His right hand pulled back to bury in your hair, fingertips grasping at your scalp.

The wetness that seeped out of you, the pulsing throb of need that started up as he began to rub gentle circles on your clit, made your mind snap back to what he said at the strip club. If you could keep yourself from cumming, he’d come back to the bunker with you. You just had to focus.

He grabbed your left hand and placed it over the bulge in his jeans, curling your fingers over the hard lump of flesh and encouraging you to rub him. You did what he wanted, marveling at how big it seemed. Jesse wasn’t that big, you were sure of it.

Jesse. Focus on Jesse. Dean made Jesse leave you. Dean made Jesse leave you. Dean made Jesse… Jesse left you, not Dean… Dean was always there for you, even when you were too cold to care. Dean loved you, horribly and inappropriately, but he never wavered.

His middle finger pushed into your entrance, slipping through your wetness and making you whimper. Your fingers tightened around his hardness and he groaned, deep in his chest and you were proud to make him make that noise.

You were going to Hell, but, hey you were the only Winchester who  _hadn’t_  been. It was your turn.

You told yourself, again, to focus, but you couldn’t. You tried to think about the fact that this was Dean, that this was a demon, that this was everything you’d tried to distance yourself from and worse, but you couldn’t. All you could think about was the way your body was singing, the way your brain  _couldn’t_ focus, the way everything weighing on you finally felt like it was light enough to carry and the whole of that feeling rested in your twin brother’s actions.

Dean pulled back from the kiss, just looking down at you as you panted, his long, thick finger dragging in and out of you. “How’s it feel, y/n?”

“I… I can't…”

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna have you cum on my fingers,” he whispered, pushing his first finger in beside his middle one and curling them against your inner walls. “When I claim you, sis, it’s gonna be on my dick.”

“Oh, god!” you whined as he started scissoring his fingers to open you up.

“Unzip me, y/n. I wanna feel your fingers on me,” he instructed, still maneuvering his fingers in you.

You reached over, using both hands to pop the button on his jeans and pull the zipper down. He wasn’t wearing boxers so the little bit of shuffling you did to get his jeans down his hips exposed him to you.

He was big. You knew he was. There’s a lack of privacy in motels; even if you’re actively avoiding the knowledge, it seeps in. You knew he was big, but it was different to have the thick steel length in your hand. He hissed, bucking his hips, and you tightened your grip. You looked up at his face and immediately looked away again. His eyes had gone black. You forced yourself to look again.

Maybe that’s what you needed to combat the heat rising up in you, the tight coil trying to snap in your core. Maybe you needed to force yourself to face the demon to push yourself through this.

By the time you looked, though, the black had fled his eyes, leaving on his brilliant green eyes, dark with lust. Fuck, how had you lived for thirty-five years without realizing how gorgeous Dean eyes were?

He leaned in and pressed you into a fierce kiss as you started to stroke him in time with his fingers dragging in and out of you. When he pulled his hand from you and sat up, you instinctively tried to follow the kiss, but he moved quickly, pulling your pants and underwear down your legs as he got down off the bed.

“Ya know, I have spent so much of our lives watching you,” he started as he moved to start undressing himself. “And I know how sad you are. I mean, Famine said you were empty, too.” You bit your lip and ignored the pang of sadness at the reminder. “Shit’s always been so hard for us, but you used to find things to be happy about. Those books you used to read, that guitar you used to pull out every time we went to Bobby’s, the poetry in your journal…” He dropped his pants to the floor next to his shirts and stepped out of them before moving to kneel at the foot of the mattress.

“Know why you’re always sad, y/n?” he asked, covering your body with his and smirking down at you. “Why you’ve felt so empty?” He swiveled his hips, grinding his cock against your soaked slit. You bit your lip to hold back your moan. “Same reason I always did. You were missing your other half.” He made sure to catch your eyes as he slipped his hand down to line the head of his cock up and slide the first couple inches into you. “I’m gonna make you whole.”

His eyes filled in with black as he pressed the thick length of him in further. You squeezed your eyes closed, partly in pain from the stretch of your inner muscles, partly to shut out the vision of your demon brother. “Fuck, you’re  _tight_.” He pulled back until just the head of his dick was in your hole before pressing in again. He got a little further that time, but still couldn’t get all the way in. “If I didn’t know Jesse got your cunt, I’d think you were a virgin. Knew it was the right decision to save you for me.” He scraped his teeth across your shoulder and you cried out. “If you don’t relax, this is gonna hurt.”

“Do you really care?” you whispered. You wanted him to say ‘no’. You  _wanted_ him to hurt you. If he did, maybe you could keep yourself from falling over the edge. Maybe then you could take him back to Lebanon, Sam could fix him, and you could spend the rest of your lives pretending none of this happened.

He kissed his way up your neck to your ear. “Of course, I care. I care more about you enjoying yourself right now than I care about anything else. I want you happy, y/n. I want us both whole.” You gasped as he took your earlobe in between his lips and sucked on it. “I can’t wait to feel you cum on my cock, to finally have you… all mine.”

“Dean… I…”

He rolled his hips, slipping further into you with a groan. “God, you are… exactly what I dreamed of. Fuck. Waited so long.” Your eyelids opened, but you still couldn’t see because your eyes were rolling back as his pelvis finally stopped flush with yours.

You were so full, stretched so far past any point you’d previously imagined, the burning pain of your inner muscles slowly ebbing as your body adjusted to the intrusion. Your hand buried in his hair, longer than normal and perfect for holding onto, as he bent his back just right and took your nipple in his mouth. “D., god!”

He hummed against your breast and reached over to run his thumb across the other nipple until it puckered up, plucking at it with his fingertips when it stiffened. He began to rock his hips against yours, miniscule movements sending shockwaves through your body that had you gasping. He bit into your nipple and you clenched around his dick, making him buck into you. “You ready for more?” he asked, running his tongue along the teeth marks to soothe the skin.

You brought your knees up to notch at his hips in answer. You closed your eyes and tried to breathe. It was sick. It was wrong. It was disgusting, but you couldn’t really care, anymore. You felt better than you had in years. You felt right. You felt whole.

He leaned up on his forearms and looked down at you. “It’s okay. I got you.” He slid his cock out until just the head was inside of you before thrusting forward again. It was perfect, how he felt inside you, how his lips slotted against yours, how his tongue tasted. He grabbed your thigh, digging his fingers into your flesh and thrusting into you a bit harder, making you grab at his shoulders and throw your head back into the pillow.

“God, Dean, this is…. Oh, god this is…”

“Not  _God_ , y/n,” he whispered into your ear.

You could feel your orgasm rising. Your abs were tightening, your heels digging into his ass, your toes curling as you met his thrusts. You were getting so close. You wanted it so badly… but you knew that as soon as you came it’d be over. Your only saving grace was the lack of attention he was paying your clit. You had never managed an orgasm without clitoral stimulation.

Leave it to Dean to be the first to pull it out of you. He pushed your knees up toward your chest, the angle changed, and his cock slammed your cervix. Your eyes rolled back, back arching, a low, harsh moan pulling from your throat as your muscles went rigid and your thighs tried to close against the sensation. Your whole body jerked and jolted as he slowed down and fucked you through your orgasm. He kissed his way across your shoulder and up your neck to your ear. “I win,” he whispered and you whimpered. He leaned on his forearms again, smiling down at you with black eyes. “I got you to play and I won, and now? You’re mine.”

You were flipped over, face in the pillow and ass in the air, before you could register movement. His hand wrapped in your hair and he slammed back into you. You screamed, but he just pressed your face harder into the pillow to muffle the sound. His hips snapped against your ass hard, his cock impacting your cervix like he was trying to punch through to your womb, his fingers bruising your hip and tearing at your hair. “You’re gonna cum again, y/n. I wanna feel it from this angle,” he demanded, not slowing his pace, reaching the hand from your hip around your body to rub at your clit.

Your walls fluttering around his cock sent him over his own precipice and he growled, a rumbling dark sound like a demon makes when you splash it with holy water, as his cock splashed spurts of cum across your pussy walls. He pulled out and flopped to the bed next to you as you went limp, only able to turn your head so that you could breathe. Dean chuckled and reached over to slap his palm across the swell of your ass. “Yeah. This is gonna work out just fine.”

You were too exhausted respond, closing your eyes and letting sleep take you.

You woke to the sound of voices. Dean and Crowley, speaking in low tones, likely in the doorway of the motel. “What do you want?”

“Well, I was coming with the option of another job, something that might quell a bit of the dark energy from the Mark, but it seems you’ve got some other outlet of depravity, don’t you? That  _is_ your twin sister fucked to bits on your bed, isn’t it?”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. I’ve wanted to break off a piece of that since we were teens. Just couldn’t let myself do anything about it back then.”

“And was she a  _willing_ participant in this sickness?”

“Eventually. Why the fuck do  _you_ care?”

“Just was thinking that it might be a bit awkward for her to go home after she-”

“That’s fine ‘cause neither of us are  _going_ home, Crowley. I finally made her mine last night, finally took what was fuckin’  _made_ for me. Might get some vamp to turn her so I can keep her around for longer. We’ve got a lot of years to make up for.”

Crowley made a huffy noise. “Maybe don’t turn your sister into a bloodsucker yet. There are other options, like witchcraft, that wouldn’t leave her so vulnerable.”

“Yeah, why don’t you leave y/n to me and go play with your dogs? I’ll find you when I need you, which’ll be never.” There was a moment of silence and you could feel Dean’s eyes on you. “She’s awake. Get out.”

“Dean, you-”

“Out.” You chanced a look at the door as Crowley disappeared and Dean slammed it shut. He smirked as he turned to you, pulling your phone out of his back pocket. “Good morning. Sam’s been calling you for hours. Took the liberty of turnin’ off your GPS.”

You swallowed, taking a deep breath. “You’re really not going to let me leave?” you whispered.

“I told you. You’re stuck with me. Besides… it’s where you belong. It’s the only place you can be whole.”

You shook your head and ran your hand down your face. “Don’t think I didn’t hear that, Dean. You don’t care about me feeling whole. I’m just something else to feed the Mark.”

He shrugged, his eyebrows jumping with amusement. “Wouldn’t you rather I feed the Mark with amazing sex than vicious murder?” You looked down. Not a sacrifice you ever thought you’d have to make, but… wasn’t it better than him killing people to satiate the damn Mark?

He presented the phone to you. “Two minutes, no codes, just tell Sam to leave you alone. You need time. Got it?”

You nodded, taking the phone and unlocking it. You dialed Sam and waited. “Where are you?! I’ve been calling you for-”

“Hours, I know,” you interrupted. You needed to keep it under two minutes, so you couldn’t have him jabbering on. “Look, I just need some time, Sammy. I… I think it’s my turn, okay? I need a damn break. I can’t deal with this bullshit-”

“I need you to help me find Dean, y/n. I need your-”

“No, you don’t. You need to let him go… and you need to let me have this time, okay? I just need-”

“Look, I just talked to… you’re not gonna believe this, but…  _Crowley_ , and if I give him the First Blade after, he’s ready to sell Dean out. I’m headed to the bar Crowley says he’s gonna be at. I could use your support.”

You rubbed your eyes with your fingertips. “Sam… Call me if you figure out where he is.”

“What? I just told you-”

“Yeah. I wish you the best of luck, little brother.” You hung up the phone and offered it to Dean. “You got any liquor in this place? I need a fuckin’ drink.”

Dean smirked and nodded. “Yeah. That sounds like a good fuckin’ idea. Get dressed. There’s a bar down the street, Flamingo Lounge. Harv behind the bar pours pretty heavy, so it’s good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam had been surprised to see you with Dean at the piano, tipsily tinkling out the beginning of ‘Hey, Jude’ on the keys. He’d been further surprised that you didn’t deny it when Dean insinuated that his cum was on the inside of your black cotton panties. You didn’t say a word. When Sam finally got the cuffs on Dean, after he’d wrestled him into the back of the Impala, Sam fully turned his attentions to you.

“What the hell, y/n?”

“Take him home and fix him,” you said, handing the car keys to Sam’s good hand.

“What he said about killing him? I don’t know what he’s done? He might deserve it?”

You shook your head. “He didn’t…” You licked your lips and faked a smile. “He was just talking about what he did for Crowley. Take him home.”

“What about you? I-I might need-”

“No. That ‘time’ I said I need? I need it. I…” You wrapped an arm around his left side, giving him a slight hug and patting his back. “Good luck, Sammy.”

“Good-? How much time do you need?”

“Goodbye, Sammy,” you whispered, walking away. Your eyes flicked to Dean, seething in the backseat, as you passed the car. His eyes narrowed, his lips pressing together in a thin line. His jaw clenched. You swallowed, looking away and breaking into a jog.

You’d assess the damage later. For now, you just needed to get away.


End file.
